I Just Don't Like You That Way
by Luna-Kitsune-Blu
Summary: What happens when our favorite pairings start falling apart at the seems? Now, to get a happy ending, the most unlikely of alliances must be formed. Misunderstandings and double meanings run amok in this wacky tale of True Love.


Blu: Woo-hoo! 'Bout time I got this fic up and running! Long time no see, all. Tis been forever since I've wondered into the world of Trigun fanfiction. But I'm back, and might as well be for good. You can't get rid of me that easily!

Anywho, welcome to the prologue of my first chapter fic in what's felt like forever. Sadly, due to the temperamental nature of my writing without a muse to go with it, don't be expecting a very fast update for this. I'm warning you now, the chapters are gonna come when they wanna, be that in a month or half a year (hopefully it wont come to the latter, but it HAS happened in the past…). Just so you know and don't end up pulling your hair out about it XD Anyways, enough of me! Go and enjoy!

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**A Pillow Fight Filled Prologue**

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"Oh God," Wolfwood breathed. "You shouldn't have."

Before him lay the two most beautiful, most perfect twin beds he had ever seen in his whole rotten little life. As he and Vash stumbled into their hotel room, hauling their bags behind them, they both looked upon the room in awe at how utterly wonderfully gorgeous it was. It had been weeks, no, _months_, since the pair had seen anything remotely resembling a bed (not counting the time Vash constructed a replica of a king sized mattress using sandstone that was later claimed by the girls for their own personal sleeping use). Catching the priest's eye, the blonde gunman gave his friend a huge grin. "Hey," Vash said, winking at the man opposite him.

"Hey, hey," replied Wolfwood. He returned the wink.

For a moment, they both just stood there, grinning from ear to ear. Then the red-clad outlaw let out a 'whoop', which was soon echoed by the priest at his side, and the two proceeded to throw their bags into the air and dive towards the bed of their choice. As luck had it, they both landed on the same bed, leading to a glaring match. This then quickly dissolved into the two wrestling savagely. They rolled around on top of the twin bed, grunts and curses flying this way and that, until Wolfwood managed to get a cheap blow to Spikey's gut, knocking the air out of him. Vash, now wheezing and defeated, crawled over to the other, exactly identical cot and collapsed upon it, letting out a strained, but content, sigh. Wolfwood made a victorious cry before falling upon his own bed, just as satisfied.

"Wolfwood?" Vash asked after a moment of staring up at the ceiling and catching his breath.

Wolfwood glanced over to the gunman, seeing the widespread, happy-go-lucky smile that had stretched across the blonde's face. "What is it, Vash?"

"Did you, by any chance, kill me before we got here?"

The priest gave the outlaw a confused look. "What? No." After a pause, the tanned man added to himself, "well, not _yet_ anyways." Another pause. "Why?"

Vash's grin somehow became bigger. "Because I think I've died and gone to Heaven. It's the only explanation."

"Nah," the black-clad smoker replied without missing a beat. "Heaven's better than this."

"How can it get any better than this?"

Wolfwood shot his friend a cocky smirk. "In Heaven, you get a mini bar and a coffee machine."

Vash let out an impressed whistle.

Silence then stretched around the room as the boys sunk into the mattresses, comfortable beyond words. After a while, however, the Humanoid Typhoon got up and started wandering around the room, obviously restless. He checked various drawers, pointing out each of his findings to the dozing clergyman, making a special point to wave the bible located in the end table drawer in the so-called priest's face, asking if he'd ever seen such a thing before. Then Vash came upon a door in the corner of the room. After swinging it open, he let out a gasp of surprise at what was within before excitingly calling for Wolfwood to rise.

"Nnnh, what is it?" Wolfwood asked, still half asleep.

"Come look!" Vash insisted. "It's _wonderful_."

Reluctantly, Wolfwood rose from his bed and joined his traveling companion by the open door, the pillow he had just been laying his head on still protectively in his grip. Beyond the door was a small bathroom, complete with toilet and cubical style shower. Towels lay folded on a shelf placed over the toilet and a variety of tiny soap and lotion bottles were arranged upon the counter, all of which the priest was planning on keeping for 'souvenirs' later. Groggily, the priest turned to his friend and rose one of his black eyebrows as if to ask 'Yeah? So? Toilet, ooh, big whoop.'

"Isn't it great?" Vash asked as he bounced slightly, obviously oblivious to his dark-haired friend's lack of interest. "Just think, Wolfwood. Now we can teach you how to _bathe_."

Upon hearing that comment, Nicky blinked a few times, seeming too sleepy to quite comprehend the joke at his expense. Then, without changing his blank expression, he brandished the pillow in his hand and smacked the gunman opposite him across the face with it. Vash stumbled back a step, surprised.

"You do know what this means, don't you?" he asked after regaining his composure and making sure he didn't have a bloody nose.

"What?" Wolfwood asked smugly. "You're gonna cry again?"

"No," the gunman replied quickly. The blonde backpedaled a few paces, far enough to grab up a pillow from his own bed to wield. "This," he stated, pointing the slightly limp cushion at the priest as if it were a sword, "means war."

Wolfwood gave a mocking bow. "Bring it, princess."

A epic pillow fight, the likes of which the poor, unexpecting planet of Gunsmoke had never witnessed and never would again, then ensued. I assure you it was quite the heroic and legendary battle, one worth a song or two to recount its glory, but at the very moment it had begun, something much more important to our plot was occurring across the hall. So, leaving the two combatants, we move one room over to find none other than Meryl Stryfe, fighting a battle of her own. Her opponent, however, was not a Humanoid Typhoon or hog-ridin' clergyman, but instead her luggage.

Letting out an impressive string of oaths, the petite woman labored to fit both hers and her larger friend's bags past the door and into their hotel room in one go. The other insurance girl was unable to help in her quest as she was off at the front desk, doing busy, insurance-girl things. This left Meryl to fend for her own with two traveling bags. Her own fairly small and fairly pink bag wasn't too much of a hassle by itself, but coupled with her partner's bigger, heavier and browner suitcase, things frankly weren't looking good for her. After one last grunt of strain, she has some how managed to fit both out the doorway and into the room before collapsing upon them herself.

"Dear lord," Meryl said, huffing and puffing. "Remind me never to do that again." A hand came up to massage her throbbing temple. She then picked herself up off the mound of luggage and wandered over to one of the twin sized beds inhabiting the room. For a moment she just stared down at it, not quite believing that in front of her was an honest-to-Coffee bed, for she had imagined such a thing happening before and that had only led to tears. Finally, though, the black haired insurance agent let herself fall upon the mattress, realizing that, yes, this time it was the real deal. "It's wonderful," she whispered as she ran her hands across the covers. "Absolutely wonderful!" She then curled herself into a ball, smiling like an idiot at the feeling of a real bed beneath her. "There's no way this can be real." Meryl let out a laugh. "Somebody pinch me, I'm drea-YEEEEEEOUCH!"

A rather painful pinching pain erupted from the insurance girl's arm. Now very annoyed, Meryl looked up to see none other than her partner, Millie Thompson, responsible, her large fingers still clamped on the smaller woman's skin. "Millie," Meryl hissed though her teeth, "how many times do I have to tell you 'pinch me, I'm dreaming' is just an expression!" She smacked her friend's hand away. "It doesn't actually mean you pinch somebody!"

"Sorry, Sempai," Millie said with an oblivious grin. "And I think that's the two hundred and twenty-ninth time."

Meryl simply rolled her eyes and sat up. "So, did we get any news?" Her friend shook her head.

"No news, Sempai," Millie reported before holding up a few envelopes. "but we got mail." Face palming followed.

Not wishing to take the time to explain to her counterpart that her usage of 'news' meant the same as 'mail' seeing as the brunette wouldn't get it anyways, Meryl simply snatched the bundle of letters from her friends hand and began lazily flipping through them.

Bill, bill, junk, bill, junk, spam, bill, crap, bill, invitation, bill—wait a sec! Meryl turned back a letter and her eyes grew twice their normal size. "Millie!" she cried, gesturing vaguely at the note in her hands. "Do you know what this means!"

"That we won't be needing these hotel rooms after all?" her brown headed friend asked politely, already working on removing her suitcase out from under Meryl's pink one.

"No, silly, it means…" Meryl paused, just now realizing what Millie had actually said. "No wait, you're right. That's what it means." Millie smiled, looking very proud of herself, before offering her partner her own faded red bag from the pile. The shorter woman took it gratefully before bursting through the door and out into the hallway, the Thompson a step behind. When they got to the boy's room, Meryl, in an obvious rush, merely kicked the door aside, revealing the room inside for the girls to see.

It was quite the sight indeed.

Somehow, over the course of the few minutes we had moved our attention away from the boys, the two men had managed to turn the entire room upside-down, inside out and then shook it.

Violently.

The dresser drawers had migrated across the floor, their contents spewed this way and that. Bottles of lotion and shampoo had been taken from the bath room to be used as soupy bombs, their explosions discoloring random spots of the carpet. Both of the twin beds had been over turned, most likely to be used as cover from the flying pillows and other, harder objects that littered the ground around them.

And, right smack dab in the middle of all this chaos, was Vash and Wolfwood, the latter of which having the upper hand.

The priest had the other man sprawled out on his back, one of his hands pulled painfully to his back and the other flailing wildly in the air. In the clergyman's free hand was the bible from the now flipped over dresser, which he was promising to use to bring much bodily harm to the man beneath him. Wolfwood's threats of pain via the Good Word were barely audible however over the rather macho cries of mercy that were streaming from the blondes mouth.

After a moment of staring on in disbelief at the mess, Meryl regained her composure and cleared her throat loudly. The boy's one sided wrestling match came to a screeching halt.

"Excuse me," the insurance girl stated coldly, giving the two men a equally as cold glare. "Hate to interrupt your little…love fest," Millie giggled quietly at this, "but you need to get your stuff together. Now."

"Why?" Wolfwood asked, crossing his legs to sit more comfortably upon the red-clad sissy.

"We're going," Meryl replied simply.

"What!" Vash jumped up so fast, he knocked his priestly friend flat on his own back. "But we just got here!"

"And now we're leaving here." The small woman gave the much taller man her patented 'What I'm Saying Goes, So Stfu Already' look, complete with 'Move It Or Lose It' scowling action.

"But…but…" The gunman motioned helplessly at the over turned cots. "They have beds!"

"If you're so worried about the bed, Mr. Vash," Millie chimed in with a huge grin, "where we're going will have much nicer ones." This got the blonde's attention.

"Nicer…beds?"

"And where exactly is it that we going?" Wolfwood cut in, picking himself off his ass.

"Some place with nicer beds, apparently," Vash informed him. The priest rolled his blue eyes.

"I wasn't talking to _you_, Tongari," he snapped. Wolfwood then turned his attention to the insurance girl standing in the doorway. "So, where is it?" This caused Meryl to actually crack a smile.

"December."


End file.
